So I still managed to make it home earlier than on a practice night, but it was later than not, which was just fine, as it meant some quality time with Wifey, at least. But I was realizing on one of the eight (R, 6, 7, 5, N, 7, 7, N) trains I rode today, I have not at all been working out in the visible ways.

I'm well behind Lex in these ways, though, in that I'm only now reading Sack's The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, which is not just deeply brilliant but helpful in understanding some of the more allegedly mystical elements of training, just as proprioception and whatnot, though I haven't reached the kiai portion quite yet.